


Shake It

by madame_d



Series: Viagra [2]
Category: NSYNC, Popslash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-02-01
Updated: 2005-02-01
Packaged: 2017-10-19 01:13:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/195246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madame_d/pseuds/madame_d
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Justin takes Viagra. It doesn't go according to plan.  Justin's side of the story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shake It

**Author's Note:**

> Companion to [Plug It In](http://archiveofourown.org/works/195241). Second person POV. Mostly PWP.
> 
> Thanks to a_karls for the prompt, and jewelianna for the beta.

You're not quite sure why you did it.

You'd accidentally grabbed JC's bathroom kit when packing up on the bus. You'd been maybe in a hurry because you'd fallen asleep and Chris, the fucker, woke you up too late, so you'd grabbed the kit from the tiny bathroom, and hadn't realized until much, much later that it wasn't yours; that the tiny golden J attached to the zipper tab was for 'JC' and not 'Justin.'

If you'd been wider awake, you would've noticed a small golden C attached to the other end of the zipper, but you'd been groggy from your nap, and grumpy with Chris for waking you up because you'd been dreaming that Lance came up to you after the concert, pushed you against the wall and blown you on the spot. It was kind of hard to concentrate after a dream like that.

Not like grabbing JC's kit is a problem. Firstly, you will return it to him tomorrow morning, but for now, it will do because the hotel has complementary toothbrushes, and C won't mind if you use his razor. Plus, it's not like his kit has anything that he might be embarrassed about. Regular toiletries, condoms, lube - same as yours.

And then there's little bottle of something. You take it out and realise it's the sample of Viagra that JC, feeling experimental, had bought online some time ago. Not that he needs any help in that department. He said he was curious as to how the pills would affect him. You remember him bounding up to you at breakfast one day, whispering hotly in your ear and tugging on your hand. You rolled your eyes at Chris, who'd been interrupted mid-word in his rant about your game the night before, and went with JC to his room.

There, with much arm-flailing, he said how absolutely amazing the pills were, the high they gave you was like drugs, but not illegal, and it took the feeling of arousal to the next level, lasted forever, and when you came, it was like nothing you'd ever experienced, and next time, he'd take it before looking for a trick for the night, because whoa.

You laughed when he looked at you - flushed with excitement or arousal, you couldn't tell - and wondered if you should tell him that Chris might be interested in experimenting with him. Then you remembered what Joey had done last time you interfered, winced, ran your hand through JC's curls, and tugged him out of the room and back to breakfast.

Upon your return, Chris had given you both a once-over, head to toes and back up again, and wiggled his tongue lewdly at you. There was something like sadness in his eyes that he'd been trying to cover up with a lopsided smile, and you wanted it to be gone because you loved JC like a brother, and he wasn't the bandmate you wanted to get your freak on with.

So, there you are, in the bathroom staring at the small bottle in your hand. And, well. JC had seemed to like it, and Lance doesn't even wink at you anymore, and you have absolutely no hope that he's even remotely interested in you. And if you take the pill, at least you'll get a fantastic jerk-off session out of it.

It all misfires horribly. At first, anticipation builds like with regular arousal, only more intense. As if there are suddenly a million times more nerve cells in your dick. You slick your hand with some hand lotion, and start rubbing, pulling slowly, with a twist at the end, the way you love it. But the familiar tightening in your belly never arrives. After what seems like forever and, in reality, had been at least an hour, you realise that you can't come. You try all your favourite tricks - fingering, playing with your balls, teasing at the sensitive head of your dick, but nothing seems to work. You're mindless with arousal, but you can't even reach the proverbial peak, let alone fall off it.

You're so hard it hurts, but you can't get off. The skin of your dick is red and raw from all the stimulation, and you're getting desperate because something needs to be done, this feels wrong, and you're not sure if it's 'call the doctor' time but you really don't want to. Going to the doctor might mean publicity, and also, how embarrassing would it be to tell the tour doctor that you'd taken Viagra and now you can't come?

You go to Lance. JC has company, and so does Joey because Kelly is visiting this week, so Chris and Lance are your only choices, and you know, you just know, that Chris will laugh in your face, and won't take the situation seriously at all. Lance is the kind of person to have possibly researched Viagra - you all knew that JC had gotten the bottle - and maybe going to Lance will cost you some pride, but at least he'll tell you if you need to see a doctor or if this is nothing serious.

You knock on Lance's door, realising a bit too late that it's the middle of the night and he is probably sleeping. When he opens the door, you know he had been. But he listens carefully, sounding a bit worried when you say that you can't get off, and offers to draw you a cool bath. You decline and he leaves for the bathroom, saying he'll be right back.

Lying there on Lance's bed, Lance's scent all around you - even the hotel bedspread smells like his cologne - and you slide your hand into sweatpants you'd stolen from JC and decide to try again.

This time around, it seems to be working. You feel precome leaking from the tip, and smear it around. You see a tube of hand cream sitting on the bedside table and snag it, squirting the lotion into your hand and dropping the tube onto the floor. You feel your belly tightening and you back off a little, slowing down, sliding your hand lower down to fondle your balls. You don't want to come just yet. Only fifteen minutes ago, it was your ultimate goal but lying here in Lance's room, on Lance's bed, you want him to see you, to see what he's missing. You want to experience your spectacular (according to JC) climax with Lance looking at you come.

You hear the sound of the door opening, and then Lance's hot breath, minty-fresh, is on your face, and you don't hesitate, blurting out before your brain kicks in with thought, "Want to lend a hand?" When Lance says yes, you squeeze your balls tightly because well. The slowing down had been worth it. You aren't coming until Lance joins you.

You never ever in your life thought that Lance would say yes. And now that he's here, bare-naked and straddling you, his skin burning where you touch, you can barely believe it. And then, he's flipping you over, hands gentle on your ass as he preps you quickly and slides in.

You know that this is a one-time only. Lance says, "This is me helping a buddy out," his voice serious, a note of warning in his tone, and you know not to expect more. So you try to get the most out it, demanding 'harder' and 'faster'; you don't want to forget this any time soon, and tomorrow is a day off anyway, so you won't need to be dancing with a sore ass. Lance pulls at your hips, raising your ass higher, and slams into you twice before grunting and collapsing. You collapse underneath him, exhausted, using him as a human blanket. You'd come once after only the second or third thrust, and again sometime in the middle but closer to the end. You feel happily wrung out, your skin a mess of come and sweat. When Lance pulls out, you purr contently, turning onto your back and stretching, smirking when you see Lance staring at your body. You want him to look. You want him to look and wonder why he's resisting it all.

After you've cleaned up, you roll over so that he's spooning behind you. You take his hand in your sticky-sweaty one, pulling his arm around your waist, resting your clasped hands on your stomach and fall asleep.

The bed shifts when you get out of it in the morning, and you pray that Lance doesn't wake up. You grab your sweatpants, the only thing you'd been wearing last night, and pull them up, wincing when the movement makes your entire body ache like a huge bruise. Lance is shifting on the bed, rolling over, saying your name, so you just whisper, "It's early, go back to sleep," and sneak out of his room.

You get back without any incidents. Your room is just two doors down, and you don't run into JC's trick or your security on your way there. You look at the clock; it's only 10:30, you haven't even slept for 5 hours. You crawl into your cold, decidedly not-Lance-smelling bed and wrap around a pillow. You feel miserable; you didn't want it to be a one-night stand. You punch a pillow a few times, but it doesn't make you feel better.

There's a knock on the door, three short ones and two long ones; one of the guys. You open the door and it's JC. You leave him in the doorway and crawl back into bed. He walks in, closes and locks the door, and sprawls next to you on the bed, over the covers.

"So. You and Lance? Last night?"

You nod into the pillow. You doubt that he'd heard anything; the hotel walls might be thin, but the bedsprings don't squeak and you'd been quiet. But it's possible he'd seen you sneaking in or out.

He runs his hand over your short curls, blunt nails scratching at your scalp. "You're so gone on him, baby."

You nod again. What's there to deny?

JC stops petting your hair, and starts running his hand up and down your back, on top of the sheet. "Talk to him, okay? It might be different from what you think."

You take a deep breath and say, "And you should talk to Chris."

There's a smile in JC's voice when he says, "Yeah. We uh... talked last night."

You roll over and giggle when you see his happy, smiling face. "Oh. So. Yeah? Good?" He nods, and you feel better. You roll over, and fall asleep with JC rubbing your back.

Despite promising yourself you'd talk to Lance, you avoid him successfully for the rest of the day. You're not sure what to say. 'Sorry for making you have sex with me' doesn't seem to cut it. While you didn't exactly force him, you did jerk off in his presence in his bed. How was he supposed to resist that? He wasn't, but your actions did take away a certain amount of his free will. If you're honest with yourself, it's more what Lance will say that scares you. Because you know that he's not interested, and isn't it ironic that half the world wants to jump your bones but the guy you've been in love with for the past few months doesn't want anything to do with you?

Every time you bump into JC, he narrows his eyes and looks at you threateningly, except it looks cute instead of scary, so you smile at him and ignore his stares. Joey doesn't say anything but only because he's floating on cloud nine from seeing his family. You don't really see him during the day; he, Kelly and Briahna are using the day off to explore the city, and leave the hotel right after breakfast.

You try not to irritate your security too much. Chris wants to go shopping, and you don a disguise and tag along if only to leave the hotel for a little while. But soon, girls start taking notice, and you ask Lonnie to take you back to the hotel. Chris says he'll come too, but without you he can walk around unbothered and unnoticed, so you tell him to stop being stupid.

You get back to your room, and try to figure out what to do. It's too early for dinner, and you're not hungry anyway; you'd only eaten brunch recently. There's nothing on TV, you aren't sleepy. You take out your guitar and try to write, but instead, wind up playing depressing love songs. You wish your mom or Brit were around so you could complain of your boy troubles, but your mom is on vacation with Paul, and Britney is in rehearsals this week so it's not a good idea to bother either one.

There's a knock on the door and you almost run to get it, so glad you are for the interruption. You fling the door open... and it's Lance. He steps in, kicks the door closed, and pushes you against the wall. He cups your cheek with one hand, his palms warm and his fingertips rough, and strokes a thumb across your cheekbone.

"I lied, okay?" He whispers, his face so close your lips are almost touching. You nod, and he sweeps his tongue across your dry lips and kisses you. He tastes like coffee and chocolate, and you think that when you rule the world, Lance will have to subside only on those two items. You lick into his mouth and wrap one arm around his shoulders, burying your fingers of the other in the short hairs at the back of his head, just so he doesn't change his mind and try to escape. It doesn't look like he'll be doing that. He's wiggling closer, fingers stroking your face, the other hand at your waist, sliding around to stroke your lower back and slipping underneath your waistband. You part, both panting harshly for breath, and Lance kisses his way down from your mouth to your collarbone, licking and nipping carefully so as not to leave a mark.

You drop your head to his shoulder and weigh your options: you can stop him now so you could talk, or you could let him fuck you blind... You wriggle and think that maybe you can be the one doing the fucking this time around, and you can talk later. Frankly, it's an easy decision to make. You push off the wall, raising your head so that you can go back to kissing Lance, and walk him to the bed.

When you push him down, he laughs and sprawls on his back, beckoning you with a finger. You come happily.


End file.
